


Of Chocolates and Roses (and Other Assorted Presents)

by Shakespeares_Girl



Category: Glam Rock RPF
Genre: Crossdressing, D/s, Food Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-25
Updated: 2012-02-25
Packaged: 2017-10-31 17:44:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/346744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shakespeares_Girl/pseuds/Shakespeares_Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a glam_kink prompt.  Also being used for "sensation play" on my kink bingo card.  Written as celebration for getting Vampire Big Bang finished (YAY!).  Okay, so, this is kind of food porn.  Specifically chocolates.  Like, Russel Stover, but more upscale.  Godiva, probably.  And I wanted to link to appropriate pictures of my favorite part of this fic, but I couldn't find any stock photos of a person with a chocolate between their teeth and the filling dripping down their chin, so, alas, no visuals today.</p>
<p>Possibly mildly triggering for body image issues, but hopefully not, that's not supposed to be a focus of the fic, just a small part of what makes the chocolate erotic to Adam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Chocolates and Roses (and Other Assorted Presents)

The dress is black velvet lined with silk, and when Brad zips him into it—after helping with everything underneath, too, the corset and the stockings and the garter belt and stays—Adam can feel his whole attitude changing. He feels sultry and slow, and the feeling just keeps growing as the rest of the outfit gets put on. Sutan comes in from the next room and fastens a string of pearls around Adam's neck, the ones that were a birthday present last January, then helps him fasten pearl teardrops in his earlobes.

Adam bites his lip, watching in the mirror as he transforms from plain old Adam into something a little exotic and a lot more exciting.

Sutan whips out his brushes and paints lipgloss—soft pink and more demure than Adam would have picked—over his lips, then brushes on eyeshadow and liner, making Adam's eyes smoky, his face androgynous. Brad helps Adam on with the special, fine grain suede gloves while Sutan works. The gloves are opera length and soft, thin suede, but there's a trick to them. The fingers are webbed with silk, and once they're on, Adam can only move his fingers a few spare centimeters apart.

Brad and Sutan finish at the same time, and Brad ducks away to grab Adam's shoes. He positions them on the floor, then waits while Sutan helps Adam stand steady so Brad can fasten them around Adam's ankles. The high heels are simple pumps, but with a thick ankle strap, and a five and a half inch heel—more than Adam can walk comfortably in.

Their rituals finished, Brad helps Adam walk to the bed and lay down comfortably. Sutan reappears at Adam's side, leather cuffs in hand, and cuffs Adam's hands together, then hooks them over one bedpost.

“Open, Adam,” Sutan orders, voice soft. Adam opens his mouth, and Sutan puts the key to the cuffs between Adam's lips. “Keep it there, sweetheart,” he reminds Adam, fingers caressing his cheek, gentle and then gone.

Adam nods, and then Sutan and Brad leave. “He promised he wouldn't be long tonight,” Brad calls before the door closes. “Since it's your anniversary.”

Adam swallows back a moan and waits.

* * *

The house is silent when Tommy walks in. Adam hears him mostly because the silence breaks with the opening of the door. And then, “Honey, I'm home!”

Adam wants to call out, to tell him where he is, but that's not part of this game. If he drops the keys, he'll stay in the cuffs for the rest of the night, and he desperately wants to be able to use his hands tonight. He whimpers when Tommy comes through the bedroom door.

It's not what Tommy's carrying that makes Adam whine. The dozen red roses are a nice thought, as are the chocolates, but they're not what keep Adam's attention. That honor belongs to Tommy himself. He's wearing a suit with a wide pinstripe, navy or black, Adam can't tell from this distance. It's obviously tailored to Tommy's frame, and the fit is exquisite. Tommy's hair is slicked back, parted to one side and swept over his ear on the other. He's clean-shaven and his collar is straight and he's wearing a tie. He's even more gorgeous than usual, and Adam wants to touch, to worship the wonder of Tommy looking like something out of Mad Men or Boardwalk Empire.

He whimpers again, and Tommy sets down the flowers and candy to come over to Adam and sit on the bed beside him. “You have the key?”

Adam opens his mouth to show Tommy, and Tommy takes the key from Adam carefully. “You were very good for me tonight, weren't you?”

Adam nods, not wanting to speak yet.

“Very, very good,” Tommy repeats absently, unhooking the cuffs from the bedpost but keeping Adam's arms stretched above his head. “I'm going to unlock the cuffs, but you have to promise me you'll keep your hands where I tell you to put them.”

“I promise,” Adam whispers.

Tommy unlocks the cuffs, then leans down and kisses Adam, smearing the pink gloss over Adam's mouth, sucking the shine from his lips and licking into his mouth, opening Adam up for his tongue. “Hmm, perfect,” he sighs, pulling back. “Grab the headboard, baby. I want to look at you all spread out for me.”

Tommy waits for Adam to obey, then stands up and steps back, loosening his tie and taking off the suit jacket. “Good,” he praises. “You comfortable, sweetheart?” At Adam's nod, Tommy turns and picks up the box of candy. “Gonna pamper you tonight,” he says, and Adam blushes, then preens under the attention. Tommy's free hand runs up Adam's thigh, feeling for the garters beneath the dress. His hand feels delicious against Adam's hot skin, even through the layers of cloth, and Adam's breathing hitches and he arches up for more of Tommy's touch.

He pouts when Tommy ignores him to open the box and picks out a chocolate. Adam bites his lip again at the sight. Tommy knows he's off sweets for a while, trying to slim down a little more. Chocolate sounds heavenly, but one indulgence never seems to be enough. He frowns, but doesn't protest.

“Open up, darling,” Tommy insists, and Adam does, unwilling to disobey, despite his diet. Tommy puts the chocolate to Adam's lips, and Adam dutifully bites. The chocolate is rich and milk-sweet, filled with hazelnut crème, and Adam moans a little at the taste. “Again,” Tommy orders, and Adam opens for the rest of the sweet. He swallows, can feel a smudge of chocolate on his lip, but Tommy didn't say to lick it away, so he resists the urge.

“Another,” Tommy announces, holding out another chocolate piece. Adam bites again, and this one is dark chocolate, filled with caramel swirled with vanilla toffee. The sticky filling streaks across his mouth, and Adam can't help parting his lips, his tongue sneaking out to taste. “No,” Tommy tells him. “Not yet.”

Adam grips the headboard tighter and waits for the next chocolate. This time it's a cherry cordial, and the cherry filling runs down his chin, drips onto his neck, sticky and sugary. Then a vanilla crème, a coconut filled, another caramel. Adam moans when he finishes the second caramel. His mouth feels tacky with the sugar, chocolate and cherry cordial smeared and drying tight against his skin, caramel melting into an even bigger mess, crème and coconut flecking his lips. It's both decadent and a little dirty, and Adam can't help himself, moans, “Tommy,” in protest when the next piece comes. He isn't sure which is worse, the sugar that's spattered all over him, or the way it's making him hard and desperate.

Tommy leans down, kisses Adam's cheek, the side of his neck, bites soft just over Adam's earlobe. “Two more? For me? I want to see you like this, covered in expensive candy and velvet, straining because you want more than just the sugar, beautiful and debauched and mine.”

“Yes,” Adam agrees, gasping in a breath. “Yours.”

“Do you mind if I take a picture? Just your mouth, your chin, nothing identifying,” Tommy asks.

“Oh—oh god, I--” Adam shivers at the thought of being caught on film like this, wanton and lustful.

“Just for me,” Tommy adds. “So I can look at your candy-coated lips and remember how it felt to lick them clean afterward.”

“Yes—Tommy, anything,” Adam moans in agreement.

“So perfect,” Tommy sighs, and Adam blushes with the praise, with the way it makes him even more desperate for Tommy—to fuck him, to kiss him, anything Tommy wants. “Second to last piece,” he promises. It's a white-chocolate truffle with a dark chocolate center. White chocolate smears across Adam's top lip, the dark center stains his bottom lip, and Adam swallows the treat eagerly now, all thoughts of dieting gone.

“Last one,” Tommy announces. “Do something for me?” Adam nods, not trusting his voice. “Bite carefully, then hold it between your teeth.”

Adam makes a choked off noise, somewhere between lust and agreement. Tommy puts the last chocolate against Adam's lips, and Adam feels the milk chocolate smear when he opens his mouth, takes the piece between his teeth and bites. He's propped against the headboard enough that when his teeth pierce the chocolate shell, the liquid inside drips out, spilling slowly down his lip toward his chin. The little he can taste on his tongue tastes like raspberry—too thin to be a crème or paste, too thick to be a cordial. He's not sure what it is, but it's fantastic, and he can't help but groan at the taste, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Keep still,” Tommy instructs, and Adam does, holds perfectly still until he hears the click of Tommy's camera—the good one, the digital one, the one that was a Christmas present from his sister. “One more,” Tommy says. “I want a different angle.” There's another click then another, and Adam starts to shake, his senses overloaded with sweet and Tommy and still. There's a final snap, then, “Now bite, Adam,” and Adam does, bites the chocolate in half and takes it in his mouth and gasps around it as Tommy's hand falls on his crotch, hot and heavy through the velvet dress, and Adam can't help it, he arches up and comes, the noise of the camera making his eyes snap open, but he sees Tommy smiling at him, and it doesn't matter.

He comes back to earth to find Tommy lapping at his mouth, licking away all the sticky-sweet residue, licking the raspberry filled chocolate out of Adam's mouth while they gasp for breath together. “You were so good tonight, sweetheart,” he murmurs between licks. “You back with me?”

“Yeah,” Adam croaks, throat orgasm-dry.

“You good to stay here while I get a washcloth to clean you up?” Tommy asks, sitting back after one last kiss to Adam's still sticky mouth.

“Um. Can you take the gloves off first?” Adam asks, slowly lowering his hands from the headboard.

“Sure,” Tommy agrees, taking first Adam's left, then his right hand and pulling off the gloves. “Want me to get the shoes, too?”

Adam's about to protest, then gives up and nods. He's way too tired and lazy right now to bother getting them off on his own. Tommy unbuckles them and pulls them away from Adam's feet, puts them carefully on the floor.

“All set?” he asks.

“Yeah, go. Need to clean up, then get out of this stupid corset,” Adam sighs.

“I like that corset,” Tommy says mildly. “Wait here, I'll be right back.”

Adam dozes off while Tommy gets the washcloth, but at least that way he isn't counting the seconds while Tommy's across the hall in the bathroom. He wakes up to Tommy wiping down his face, then his neck, unfastening the pearls and the earrings as he goes. “Sit up,” Tommy coaxes. “Let's get you out of this dress.” Adam obeys, and Tommy unzips the dress, then helps Adam stand and take it off. He loosens the corset laces, too, and unfastens the garters from the stockings, then wipes off Adam's softening dick, and his stomach, where there's come smeared. “Okay. I'm gonna go dump this washcloth in the bathtub, then I'll come back and hang everything up, all right?”

“Yeah,” Adam nods, laying back on the bed with his legs in the air to get the stockings off. Tommy shakes his head at him, but heads back to the bathroom, then returns. Adam's sprawled on the bed, head pillowed on his arms, and he blinks sleepily when Tommy comes back wearing only his boxers. “Didn't get you off,” Adam sighs. “Sorry.”

“Not this time,” Tommy agrees, “but I'm not sorry. You wanted that, right? All the attention paid to you?”

“Yeah,” Adam murmurs, sounding half-asleep already. “Definitely. Best anniversary ever.”

“I'm glad, baby,” Tommy smiles. He climbs into bed and spoons up behind Adam. “Sleep now. We can do the thing with the roses in the morning.”


End file.
